


Windows on a Lost World

by Sanalith



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 08:39:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanalith/pseuds/Sanalith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During her 28 years in the asylum, Belle dreams of another world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Windows on a Lost World

_“They say that dreams are memories of another life.”  
~ Mr. Gold_  
  
No one came to see her. Not yesterday, not today, not tomorrow. Not ever. The only exceptions were the people with blank faces and green shirts who placed food in her cell through a small flap in her door, and the dark eyes and bright red lips of the woman who sometimes peered at her from across the room. She was utterly and completely alone.  
  
But at night, when she closed her eyes and allowed sleep to overtake her, there was always someone waiting for her.  
  
It was a man, though unlike any of the men who left her food. Instead of smooth, pale skin, this man was tinged with green and brown, and his hands were slightly rough to the touch. He wore not soft cotton but tough leather and smooth silk. He never spoke, but he smiled and laughed – a high, twittering giggle – and his strange, dark eyes held nothing but warmth.  
  
Her own scratchy clothing was replaced by the finest garments she could imagine. Sometimes it was a golden ball gown, which bared her pale shoulders to the man’s longing gaze. He often touched her hesitantly, pulling her into a gentle embrace, and waltzed her around a grand room, as though she were a princess. His hands felt cool against her overheated skin, and she adored the sensation. Other times she wore a bright blue dress with a soft white ruffled shirt, which felt comfortable and familiar. On those nights, he would grin and pass her a feather duster, gesturing grandly to the trinkets and knick-knacks that suddenly filled the room. She would laugh, wiggle the duster in front of his face in warning, and then set of to her chores.  
  
She brought him tea in a chipped cup, placed bundles of straw at the foot of a great spinning wheel, and fell from ladders while brining sunlight into a Dark Castle. She looked into her companion’s eyes and knew she loved him, but her heart was often sad, as though she knew the love was doomed to fail.  
  
Come morning she forgot the dreams. Echoes, ghosts, shadows sometimes remained. The light brush of a hand in her hair, the feel of silk against her skin, the taste of warm tea tickling her tongue. But then the grey walls of her cell worked their magic and she bowed her head, cold reality consuming her, and she knew no more until the night returned.  
  
Time passed without her knowing, as she slipped from one world to the next, until suddenly a strange man entered her cell and offered his hand. She had no idea why, but something made her follow his commands, convinced her to wander unfamiliar streets, cold and alone, and seek out the mysterious man called Mr. Gold. That same something allowed her to accept his tearful embrace, to believe his fierce promise of protection. Her mind could make no sense of it, but it had made sense of so little for so long, she hardly even noticed.  
  
And when, between one step and another in a dark green forest, the woman from the cell suddenly became Belle of Avonlea once more, the dreams - the  _memories_  - came crashing down on her with the force of a tidal wave. She nearly fell to her knees, clutching her head in her hands, as her entire life washed over her in the space of a single moment.  
  
Then she was on her feet, reaching toward the man who had saved her more times than she could count. He wore a different face, but when she called out his true name and he faced her in disbelief, she could see her beloved in his expressive eyes.  
  
Once upon a time, her father told her that some dreams really could come true. Now, years later, she understood that dreams were the  _only_  truth that mattered.


End file.
